


Artistry of Your Body

by Akaiba



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blowjobs, M/M, Rimming, here be dicks, implied Sullen, sullen pirate au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-23 05:30:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4864877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akaiba/pseuds/Akaiba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>-An excerpt fic from the Sullen Pirate AU Collaboration.-</p><p>Anders shakes his head again, huffing a laugh as gives Fenris a more weary look. “You still lost our deal though.” </p><p>Fenris fidgets. “I did not think you would… actually want to… uh…”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Artistry of Your Body

“Why do you have to do that?!” Anders demands, slamming the door to his patchwork shack far harder than he should but the dramatic effect puts an edge on his irritation nicely. 

Fenris whirls around, and an elf that well muscled and that deadly should not have the gall to strut around all bronze skinned and… sinewy. It made maintaining his focus ten times harder. He’s half a mind to enforce shirts on the pirate captain.

“He started it!” Fenris bites out venomously. Anders scoffs at the childish retort but Fenris tilts his chin defiantly. “I don’t take orders from mages any more.” He adds, lower and bristling for a fight. 

Anders won’t take it, not this time. 

“No. You don’t.” Anders uncrosses his arms, reminding himself not to look aggressive and instead try authortive. “But you do make deals with them, apparently. Deals that you promised to keep.” Fenris twitches and for a moment Anders is not sure whether Fenris will hiss at him like an angry cat. “What did you tell me? You would hold your tongue next time you saw him, that’s what you said. And what did you not do?” 

“Pfaugh! Cease this at once, you are ridiculous. Of course I cannot hold my tongue around him! He is disgusting and deliberately antagonistic- yet he expects you to care for his pet tranquil while leering at you like-” 

“Are you serious?! You’re jealous?” Anders presses his fingers to his temples and sighs hard. “You are un-fucking-believable. Have you seen the pretty, blonde, brown-eyed, barely grown boy he’s fucking?” Anders shakes his head. “Don’t answer that. If you’ve been eyeing Cullen I think I’ll cry.” 

“I have not been ‘eyeing’ that noble brat.” Fenris spits through clenched teeth.

“Good.” Anders shakes his head again, huffing a laugh as gives Fenris a more weary look. “You still lost our deal though.” 

Fenris fidgets. “I did not think you would… actually want to… uh…” 

It is rare that a pirate as vicious and raw as Fenris is manages to look as uncomfortable and apprehensive as Fenris manages right now. 

Anders shrugs. “I thought you were a man of your word.” He teases gently before cocking his head. “Are you alright?” Fenris isn’t exactly fidgeting still but he isn’t relaxed either, a tense readiness in his frame that looks like a wound cog. Anders steps closer and Fenris’ eyes snap up. “Fenris?” 

“I’m fine, just…” 

“Mage issues?”Fenris grinds his teeth a little before giving a jerking nod of his head. “Hm… maybe some other time then.” Anders turns to walk away, chores to attend to if Fenris needs space, when Fenris tugs his belt gently. 

“You are a poor disciplinary if you don’t enforce your punishment.” 

Fenris’ gaze is somewhere on his jaw and Anders waits until the elf meets his eyes before asking him to explain. “But you don’t want to do this.” 

“No; this is new and I am unsure but… I would never have agreed if I could not stand to lose.” Fenris’ grip on his belt tightens and it tugs Anders towards him the step he had taken away, not quite touching but barely a foot between them now. Fenris is breathing harder, anticipation and anxiousness, fear of the unknown and adrenaline to meet it head on. He only knows brutal submission at the hands of a mage and yet… here he is, letting another mage lay hands on him. 

Anders grasps Fenris’ wrists and gently pries his hands away, stepping into Fenris’ space and holding his arms up at the wrists. “Then aren’t you lucky I don’t want you  _standing._ ” Anders is grinning, half waiting for Fenris to shove him back, but until it comes he is going to enjoy this. “Get on the bed.“

Fenris’ breath catches. “Make me.” He taunts. 

Anders’ eyes widen a fraction, smile freezing in surprise, and then his grip tightens. “Oh, is that how you want to do this?” His grin comes back harder as he pushes Fenris chest to chest until the elf has no choice but to back up as the mage relentlessly walks into him. That Fenris doesn’t effortlessly push Anders away is a fairly useful indication that Fenris is at least interested, but he still says, “Stop me if this gets too much for you.”

“You will very quickly become aware if I don’t like something.” Fenris rolls his eyes but there’s still that wary edge in his gaze.

“I know. But still… I wanted to say it.” Fenris grunts disinterestedly and Anders takes the moment to shove him hard, foot braced around Fenris’ heel so he tumbles and lands with a yelp on the poorly padded bed with a whump of inelegantly flailing limbs. There, that does Anders’ ego some favours as he stands over Fenris on the bed and smirks.

“And here I thought you would wish to fuck me, not mock me.” Fenris drawls with a scowl but Anders successfully resists prodding him further as he pushes between Fenris’ knees to sit on the bed. It is a very interesting change having Fenris legs around his hips and that wary, curious look watching him with such… anticipation.

“I would never mock you.” Fenris makes an unflattering sound that Anders silences with a bite to his jaw. 

The elf shoves at him, a heel to his spine for the sting of pain that Anders soothes with his tongue before kissing the corner of his mouth and darting his head back before Fenris can bite him in turn. Hands reach for the mage and Anders tangles their fingers before pinning them to the bed, body blanketing Fenris in place in the illusion of dominance. Both of them know it isn’t at all a greedy, taking dominance, not when Fenris could- and would- flip Anders off the bed if he felt so inclined. 

“Get on with it, mage.” 

“Maker, Fenris, if you’re any more romantic I might swoon.” 

Fenris growls and Anders kisses him. Mouth open and taking nothing less than silence as he swallows breath and word alike, the infamous pirate captain gasping into an apostate’s mouth with his eyes closed- vulnerable and willing. Spitefully, Anders would wish Sebastian to see this for only a moment but the thought is overshadowed with possessive jealousy. “Do not move your hands.” Anders squeeze Fenris’ hands meaningfully before taking his own back and leaving Fenris to grasp at the worn sheet. 

“Why?” 

“Because I said so.” Anders rolls his eyes but before Fenris can get his smalls in a twist over some imagined slight he dips down to kiss him again. 

Every time Fenris tries to touch him he bites him, not hard but enough he has Fenris growling and kicking at his thighs, fighting with his need for control as Anders forcibly eases it from his grasp. His hips rock against Fenris, his skirt hitched up and feeling the rub of Fenris’ impossibly tight leather trousers against his cock. Fenris can feel it too, moaning and jerking away from Anders’ mouth to breathe sharply as Anders doesn’t miss a beat. 

He’s been dying to mark Fenris up for once and there’s a delectable patch of dusky skin on his neck, framed by lyrium, and it is just begging for Anders to suck on it hard. Fenris’ hands move to clutch at his back tight, chewed fingernails stubbing into Anders’ back as Anders retaliates by biting his neck and grappling with Fenris to hold his hands over his head again. The bite has him choking, sharp and strangled wisps of breath as he arches. 

“Fuck.” He grunts intelligently as Anders’ mouth parts from his skin with a slick smack. “Alright, mage! Hands above my head.” He grumbles but the sight of him like this; arms over his head and fingers tangled in the bedding, a red flare on his neck that will assuredly bruise and mouth slick and swollen… Anders is already pleased with this and he’s barely begun. “Do not look so smug.” 

“Don’t ruin my fun.”

“Fucking get on with it.” Fenris shifts, so uncertain laid out like this and relinquishing control of leading. But Maker if that doesn’t make the sight so much more enticing in it’s rarity. 

Anders obediently ducks his head but his mouth instead seals around a dusky nipple that hardens in the heat of his mouth. Perking flesh is pressed under the flat of his tongue as he sucks hard, drawing the elf to arch up to his mouth before he digs a ring of his teeth into Fenris’ skin. Another suck draws the skin against his teeth harder, achingly close to too sensitive skin but close enough as his mouth pops free to the sound of Fenris crying out. He thrashes and Anders grunts when another kick of bare feet has him flinching, no sympathy when the elf glares up at him. 

“That. Hurt.” 

 Anders cups Fenris tight bulge in his already obscenely tight trousers. “And you liked it.” Whatever retort Fenris might have had is silenced on his tongue with the way Anders palms at him, heat bleeding through the material and Maker he just wants some relief from this mage’s teasing. 

 Fenris shifts and his hips buck against Anders, not enough to move him but enough to make his intent clear. “Fucking suck me, mage.” He demands with such a haughty air that clashes with the way he’s sprawled so invitingly. 

It is a testament, Anders thinks, to his willpower at how his mouth waters at the thought of having Fenris cock make his jaw ache and how want blossoms in his belly, but he manages to shake his head. “No.” And what a delight is it to say that word and have Fenris feel the thrilling desperation for once. Need and excitement warring until all that spills forth is plaintive soft sounds as Anders thumbs over Fenris’ nipples idly, more fascinated in the new things the elf is letting him see. 

He lays his palms on Fenris’ deceptively slender hips, unfastening the sash and belt before discarding them with little thought and letting Fenris seek out his gaze at the pause. The elf makes an aborted questioning sound and Anders seizes the moment to press his mouth to the straining line of Fenris’ cock. 

Heat bleeds from his mouth, breath warming the taut leather and exciting the hot skin trapped within. Fenris groans and tapers off into a frustrated sigh as Anders starts kissing the fabric. Pressure and teasing, heat where his mouth lingers, damp from his tongue and the sounds of lips on leather… Fenris writhes and bucks up hopefully, his fingers fisted tight in the bedding over his head as he pants harshly. “Anders…” It does not sway Anders, sweet as it is.

Hedonism and pleasure are old friends to Anders and he intends to introduce them to Fenris. Thoroughly.

The tips of his fingers hook into the edge of Fenris’ trousers, slung low on his hips but so tight there’s barely any room for Anders to get a grip. Whatever excuse Fenris wants to give of flexible fabric that an opponent can’t grip is utter bullshit as far as Anders is concerned, the elf knows he looks good in skin tight leather- who doesn’t, really? But Maker, this is a torment unto Anders as well, watching the sight before him and refusing to rush this.

“Kaffas!” Fenris swears when Anders’ mouth leaves him, fingers inching his trousers down with lethargic motivation. “Why are you doing this?!” He demands. “Just… just fuck me!” There’s colour in his cheeks; shame and need and worry. It jars Anders like a slap to the face.

“No.”

“Then what is your plan here?! To tease me until I lose patience?” 

The anger is broken as Fenris’ cock springs free from his trousers, slapping against his belly and making the elf groan as he shifts. Anders draws him back to words by speaking, “I mean to savour you.” Like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Though… I do very much want to play with your ass if… you don’t have any objections.”

“I only object if you do not start doing  _something_!” His gaze has dropped, that irritatingly ill-suited subservience leftover that makes Anders cringe but it still creeps in now and again. No longer the norm it tends only to surface when he is uncertain. 

“Is that a ‘yes’?”

The growl makes Anders shiver. “Yes, Maker take you, mage, yes!”

Anders grins, kissing the flushed head of Fenris’ cock to make him growl again before wrestling the elf’s trousers the rest of the way off his unfairly attractive thighs. Smooth as all elves are, muscled like they don’t tend to be. Swinging around a sword the same size as him will tend to do that to a man… or elf. Anders runs his hands up the length of each calf, leading him inwards to the juncture of his thighs.

Fenris’ attention is fixed, eyes not wavering now, as his breath hitches and he wills Anders where he wants him. Anders is perfectly at home here, as enjoyable as he finds being under Fenris he is no stranger to everything else his deviant youth could experience and nothing can quite beat giving everything he has to the task of making his partner cum. It is a power like no other and, contrary to whatever Fenris believes of mages, the only power that he ever sought. Healing always came naturally, but this… this he had to work on. But the classes were fun. With Fenris it carries something different and not unfamiliar, the memory of Karl making him push on over that feeling because he cannot and will not face it yet. 

Much more fun to wrap has hands around dark thighs and bury his face between them.

Anders’ tongue laps a hot wet line over the loose skin of Fenris’ balls, heavy and weighty in his mouth as he wastes on time in suckling the flesh into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it and letting it slip out as Fenris tosses his head. This isn’t what he wants, he wants his cock choking the breath from Anders as his balls slap his chin. 

But it feels good. New and like heat between his skin and his blood, fevered and prickling at the inaction but so, so good. ‘Savour’ Anders had said, like Fenris was some heavy wine to be indulged in at leisure. This felt like madness and temptation and Fenris had given up on urging Anders. It wasn’t exactly contentment that drove him to compliance, more curiosity at how long this fire could burn in him before it fell over him- unlike racing for the end, more outrunning a storm. It would seize him eventually, Anders was too kind to be that cruel, but fuck if Fenris was ready for it.

There’s heat and wet against his hole now, Fenris’ legs twitching in surprise as a cry tumbles from his mouth. His drifted gaze snaps back in alarm, head jerking up to stare as Anders pushes his cheeks to spread farther, tongue probing deeper. Fenris jerks again but Anders has him held, hips raised and whatever strength the mage has fixes him pinned. Need to feel more and the overwhelming rush of something new makes Fenris tremble- away or closer, maybe both, he cannot tell. He’s done this to Anders before, merrily and eagerly, but something about it being done to him is flaying him open in ways he did not expect.

Anders does not shy from the obscene sounds his mouth makes on Fenris’ skin; suckling and licking, lapping and kissing in the most lewd ways the sensitive skin of his hole, breaching and coaxing him to open as Fenris’ fingers tear at the bed- jaw hanging open and frantic whimpers of sound tripping over his tongue. 

He turns his face into the threadbare lump of a pillow and he hiccups on breath as his body trembles, heels digging one into the bed and the other into Anders’ back. The door is unlocked, his mind whispers, isolated as Anders is someone might hear him. The thrill that there is no fear but his own shame- no master to tear him from this, to punish, to take… it still makes him wild at the thought. Greed is as addictive as it is decadent and Fenris wants, is free to want, and some he does. “Don’t stop.” He demands, the waver in his voice high as his head tips back. Chin to the lashed together roof, his jaw ticks with each breath and the tension builds. Fire reaching for inferno in his belly, clever fingers daring to breach him just enough with spit alone. 

A flare of magic is like nails down his back, curving his spine in an arch and his knees spreading to beckon as Anders’ tongue is joined by an oiled finger. The mage’s fingers are long and slender, calloused from work and staff alike the digit presses into Fenris in a slow push that doesn’t stop until the final knuckle is alongside his lips. 

“You are undoing me, mage.” Fenris gasps, a second finger not as gentle as the first but oh, so, welcome. It isn’t a burn he dislikes, as delicious as the one in his gut he feels Anders’ fingers spread him, tongue between and sloppy wet sounds echoing under the weight of his gaze. Honey brown eyes so warm, so gentle; so seeing. Fenris has been nude before magisters and humiliated  and degraded with nary a thought to fight back and nothing has laid him as bare as this. There is no guard between them, no walls between what he feels and how he lets himself show it- lets Anders see it…

Anders pulls his mouth back from it’s task, fingers never ceasing that gentle slip and slid, the infuriating catch of his skin stretched wide with each push of Anders’ hand. Where Fenris expects smug victory to curl his lips Anders only seems satisfied. As satisfied as Fenris longs to be, completed and achieved- and like a bolt of lightning Fenris realises that his own pleasure gives Anders pleasure. Anders gets off on seeing him writhing in ecstasy, hair sticking to his forehead and sheets damp under his body as he is taken apart. 

There is no superiority in Anders doing this to him, the power is still his as equally as it is Anders and the man maintains his submission in his craving to give as desperately as Fenris wants to take. 

Fenris reaches a hand to the mage, arm stilling and falling back at the warning look. Neither of them want to stop now but Fenris is the more frantic one and unwilling to test Anders’ resolve. “Anders.” He offers instead; a choked gust of his name that has Anders conceding.

Lips mouth up his cock and Anders’ free hand holds the swollen flesh up to fasten his mouth around, tongue curling under the crown of the head as the mage greedily laps up his excited precome. After wanting it for so long the sensation is like sinking into unbearable heat, his cock so long ignored now enveloped as Anders sinks his mouth around the flesh until it nudges the back of his throat. The Maker himself forgot to craft Anders a gag reflex and for that Fenris is forever grateful, that and how Anders gluttons himself on Fenris’ cock like it were the Maker’s own gift. 

A third finger pushes into him and he’s strung between the two actions; the fingers curling into him and finding every angle to push to make him whine as Anders sucks his cock with abandon- head bobbing like a prized whore but the fixed gaze on Fenris as his control slips is searing. 

Sensation and feeling get muddled, Fenris unable to hear past his own cries of completion as his toes curl, the building crescendo breaking over him as his hands hold him up, spine curving and mouth calling out praise to the Black City for the man between his thighs and may he never stop as Fenris spills into his mouth. 

Anders doesn’t. 

He drags every moment of crackling pleasure that wracks his body until Fenris is whimpering and pleading for him to stop, hands pushing at his head and thighs shaking unsteadily. He might not be able to stand for some time.

Anders’ mouth leaves his cock and the mage looks a wreck, mouth abused and well-fucked, and he gently eases his fingers from Fenris to hurriedly flip up his skirt and grip his cock. 

Fenris sees it; flushed and weeping with torment as Fenris twitches under Anders, spent cock making a valiant attempt to show interest as Anders jerks himself hard and fast- no finesse now, only determination. If Fenris had the motion control he would have tried to help. As it is he can only watch with hooded eyes as he tries to catch his breath but it seems to be enough as Anders cums with a strained curse, striping Fenris’ belly with his seed and making him moan softly as Anders pants harshly into the quiet shack. 

The mage slumps beside him and neither do more than gasp for breath until the spots in Fenris’ eye shave stilled their dancing. 

“This… was not a deterrent.”

“Hnng…?” Anders grunts.

“From antagonizing Samson.” Fenris squints at him. “That was your original goal?”

Anders snorts. “Maker, I gave up on you two being civil years ago. I just wanted to be in charge for once.”

Fenris tries to make a show of being affronted but he isn’t sure he can even move to adjust the blanket at this point, only offering a disgusted noise and throwing an arm over the mage. 

**Author's Note:**

> Also on tumblr: http://akaiba.tumblr.com/post/129792935977/pirate-au-fenders-in-which-anders-reduces-fenris
> 
> My tumblr: akaiba.tumblr.com


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